


breakfast

by EKmisao



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Canon-Compliant, M/M, what the heck is wrong with the relationships list here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EKmisao/pseuds/EKmisao
Summary: He should really be alone for breakfast today. But he's not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormberry/gifts).



> Um, hi. I'll probably just be a guest here but not a regular. 
> 
> Filling a prompt with a short thing. Thank you for reading.

You have no idea how easy it is for someone like me to lose sleep. It is very, very easy. Even if it looks to you like I've been in bed for more than six hours. The only sleep that feels like sleep was probably only two hours. Everything else was tossing and turning or maybe looking asleep from the outside but the brain giving nightmare scenario after nightmare scenario. 

The Russian warmth helps. Of course it does. 

But there are many days when everything screams instead: this is not real this is not real THIS IS NOT REAL STOP STOP THINKING THAT IT IS STOP this will end sometime and soon and this is not real THIS IS NOT REAL. 

Yes. All caps. 

I had run out of the sleeping tablet I use that makes some of this stop, so the screams rushed through and over me in several tsunami waves. He does not love me, not really. He will go away. He will never come back. He doesn't really love me. I will fail him, I will keep failing him, he will go away, he will never come back. This dream will stop, and I will wake up. 

When it is like this, no amount of Russian warmth in the night makes it go away. It just dampens it, makes it less of a tidal wave, maybe even dampens it enough to let me sleep. 

It is not his fault. It never will be. But there are days when the warmth will not be enough. 

Something was sizzling and crackling from the kitchen when I finally mustered enough will to not be sleeping. 

That was not right. As far as I knew, Victor had places to be this morning, besides the usual jogging route. Some early meeting, I can't remember about what. I was supposed to be waking up to a lot of silence that morning, and maybe some breakfast cooling under a plate. He should no longer be here and cooking something. 

I groaned as I looked at the cellphone. It was already past eight, nearing nine. Why was he still here? Why was he still here? 

I dragged my feet outside the bedroom, my hair still sticking out in all directions, glasses still on a hand rather than over my eyes. 

"Why are you still here." I forgot I spoke in Nihonggo. I repeated in English: "You still here. Why." 

He turned. He smiled. 

He did not greet 'Good Morning!' loudly and cheerfully like he did when we first knew each other, the way both my parents have been greeting me in the mornings forever. Somewhere along the way he had learned that doing that made me feel worse instead. It was a forcing to be cheerful when everything in me did not feel right. Somewhere along the way he had learned to not do that. 

It was late. I was asleep for only maybe two hours. I was tired, hungover from too much sleeping that got nowhere. I was not alone. I should already be alone. I was annoyed. 

He was waiting for me. Dammit, why does he do this. 

"Answer question, please!" I tell him in my horribly halting, accented, very Japanese, English. My better American-honed, Pichit-honed English was still far away in my saner, sleepier brain. 

He kept smiling as he walked over to the dining table, carrying two plates with sunny-side eggs, a small bowl of rice on one plate and two slices of toast on the other. 

I wanted to pull my hair. I wanted to scream. I wanted to go back to bed. I do not deserve to be waited for. I do not deserve breakfast. I do not deserve anyone waiting for me at all, never mind anyone waiting for me before he could eat breakfast. I do not deserve any of this, or anything at all. 

"Chikusho!" I finally snapped. "Baka yarou!" I switched to English. "I ask easy question. Why you wait for me! Why you still here!" 

Don't wait for me, Victor, dammit. Don't wait for me at all. For anything. For everything. I will only hold you back. I will only hold you back. I will only hold you back. Don't wait for me about anything, anything at all! Why in the world do you wait for me! 

And suddenly the Russian warmth is all over me again, holding me close at the shoulders, as the floor dissolves at my feet, as my heart pounds in its place, as my breaths stumble over each other. 

I feel so terribly weak, always needing to have this warmth all around me, just to survive, just to not drown. I feel awful having to need it. But I do. I need it. 

"To answer your question..." The English was fluent, spiced with the Russian stiffness, but delivered with gentleness. "The meeting was for costume planning, and it was re-scheduled for this afternoon. As I was suddenly open, I wanted to share breakfast with you. Ja?" 

"You canceled," I accused, still wrapped in his warmth. 

"They called to cancel. It was not me," he said. "Was just good timing." 

I am so stupid. So very, very stupid. To break down like this in the morning, all because of breakfast. 

"Also," he added, taking up the hand with the ring. "I like waiting for you. So you can join me." 

Stop....stop...stop being so nice...stop! 

"You disturbed nothing by having breakfast with me," he repeated. "And I love being with you." 

I sighed deeply. I wish I had that much confidence about me being with him. 

I wriggle free of him and sit down to eggs and rice. 

He sat across me, making me take in again the entirety of that silver hair, those deep eyes, that light skin. My wall poster come to life, and serving me rice and eggs. 

Someday I will be stronger than this. Just not today. 

Today I will just be relieved that he is in my life. Full stop. 

And he keeps accepting me as I am. Full stop.


End file.
